Isabella. There is a vice that most I do abhor,
And most desire should meet the blow of justice;
780For which I would not plead, but that I must;
For which I must not plead, but that I am
At war 'twixt will and will not.

Angelo. Condemn the fault and not the actor of it?
Why, every fault's condemn'd ere it be done:
790Mine were the very cipher of a function,
To fine the faults whose fine stands in record,
And let go by the actor.

Isabella. O just but severe law!
I had a brother, then. Heaven keep your honour!
795

Lucio. [Aside to ISABELLA] Give't not o'er so: to him
again, entreat him;
Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown:
You are too cold; if you should need a pin,
You could not with more tame a tongue desire it:
800To him, I say!

Isabella. Too late? why, no; I, that do speak a word.
May call it back again. Well, believe this,
815No ceremony that to great ones 'longs,
Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword,
The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe,
Become them with one half so good a grace
As mercy does.
820If he had been as you and you as he,
You would have slipt like him; but he, like you,
Would not have been so stern.

Angelo. Your brother is a forfeit of the law,
And you but waste your words.

Isabella. Alas, alas!
Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once;
And He that might the vantage best have took
835Found out the remedy. How would you be,
If He, which is the top of judgment, should
But judge you as you are? O, think on that;
And mercy then will breathe within your lips,
Like man new made.
840

Angelo. Be you content, fair maid;
It is the law, not I condemn your brother:
Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son,
It should be thus with him: he must die tomorrow.

Isabella. To-morrow! O, that's sudden! Spare him, spare him!
845He's not prepared for death. Even for our kitchens
We kill the fowl of season: shall we serve heaven
With less respect than we do minister
To our gross selves? Good, good my lord, bethink you;
Who is it that hath died for this offence?
850There's many have committed it.

Angelo. The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept:
Those many had not dared to do that evil,
If the first that did the edict infringe
855Had answer'd for his deed: now 'tis awake
Takes note of what is done; and, like a prophet,
Looks in a glass, that shows what future evils,
Either new, or by remissness new-conceived,
And so in progress to be hatch'd and born,
860Are now to have no successive degrees,
But, ere they live, to end.

Angelo. I show it most of all when I show justice;
For then I pity those I do not know,
865Which a dismiss'd offence would after gall;
And do him right that, answering one foul wrong,
Lives not to act another. Be satisfied;
Your brother dies to-morrow; be content.

Isabella. So you must be the first that gives this sentence,
870And he, that suffer's. O, it is excellent
To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous
To use it like a giant.

Isabella. Could great men thunder
875As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet,
For every pelting, petty officer
Would use his heaven for thunder;
Nothing but thunder! Merciful Heaven,
Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt
880Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak
Than the soft myrtle: but man, proud man,
Drest in a little brief authority,
Most ignorant of what he's most assured,
His glassy essence, like an angry ape,
885Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens,
Would all themselves laugh mortal.

Lucio. [Aside to ISABELLA] O, to him, to him, wench! he
will relent;
890He's coming; I perceive 't.

Isabella. Because authority, though it err like others,
Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself,
That skins the vice o' the top. Go to your bosom;
Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know
That's like my brother's fault: if it confess
905A natural guiltiness such as is his,
Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue
Against my brother's life.

Angelo. [Aside] She speaks, and 'tis
Such sense, that my sense breeds with it. Fare you well.
910

Isabella. Not with fond shekels of the tested gold,
Or stones whose rates are either rich or poor
As fancy values them; but with true prayers
That shall be up at heaven and enter there
920Ere sun-rise, prayers from preserved souls,
From fasting maids whose minds are dedicate
To nothing temporal.

Angelo. From thee, even from thy virtue!
935What's this, what's this? Is this her fault or mine?
The tempter or the tempted, who sins most?
Ha!
Not she: nor doth she tempt: but it is I
That, lying by the violet in the sun,
940Do as the carrion does, not as the flower,
Corrupt with virtuous season. Can it be
That modesty may more betray our sense
Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground enough,
Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary
945And pitch our evils there? O, fie, fie, fie!
What dost thou, or what art thou, Angelo?
Dost thou desire her foully for those things
That make her good? O, let her brother live!
Thieves for their robbery have authority
950When judges steal themselves. What, do I love her,
That I desire to hear her speak again,
And feast upon her eyes? What is't I dream on?
O cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint,
With saints dost bait thy hook! Most dangerous
955Is that temptation that doth goad us on
To sin in loving virtue: never could the strumpet,
With all her double vigour, art and nature,
Once stir my temper; but this virtuous maid
Subdues me quite. Even till now,
960When men were fond, I smiled and wonder'd how.